The Story of the 31st Games
by MissHermioneEverdeen
Summary: Rated T for violence in future chapters. This story follows the District 4 tributes in the 31st Hunger Games: Nitya and Atlas (no characters from the trilogy are used). Will Atlas fall for Nitya? Will he survive long enough to? Will either of them survive?
1. The Reaping

My heart beat quickens, sweat appears on my palms, on my forehead, on my legs. The escort for District 4 seizes the small slip of paper from the giant glass ball on the stage in front of the Justice Building. I close my eyes and pray, hoping, begging for the best.

"Nitya Viponte!" Calls the escort. Many people groan.. Because it is me who was chosen. My heart seems to stop, and I feel like I'm in a nightmare. Everything seems so surreal suddenly. I take a deep breath, with some difficulty, and force my legs to move. Because I'm in District 4, you would think I would be pleased, honoured even, to be chosen. I would be shouting to the crowd for no one to volunteer for me. Well, it wouldn't matter if I did, because no one will anyway. I'm not your usual District 4 girl. I'm a District 4 girl who is terrified of being chosen for the Hunger Games, just like any other kid in any other District. Apart, of course, from 1 and 2. Because of this, the kids from my District hate me. They're all itching to volunteer, but they hate me so much they'd rather see me suffer than save me by volunteering.

As I mount the steps, I feel the tears coming on. This is my death sentence. There's no way I could survive this. The escort holds her slightly blue hand out to me. Capitol people do the most horrible things to themselves; her whole body is dyed a pale shade of blue. I refuse her hand and stand there before the annoyed yet satisfied crowd. The courtyard in front of the justice building where the Reaping is being held has a beautiful view of the ocean. I've always loved this view, and to think this is the last time I'll ever see it..

"Your turn, boys!" the escort says suddenly. I can't help hating her, she seems so happy about all this, that 23 innocent children will be killed for her entertainment. She plunges her hand into the glass ball for the boys, and grabs a named slip of paper. "Atlas Perthshire!"

I gasp. This boy must be the only one in the whole district who has the same point of view as me.. And, well, I may have a small crush on him. My heart sinks as I remember that, because he's like me, no one will volunteer for him. How can I possibly kill him? Sweet, sexy Atlas. For him, this is also the last time he will see the ocean. I'm seriously in danger of crying now, I try my best to hold back the tears, but eventually I feel one rolling down my cheek. I can't look him in the eyes when we shake hands, but I can feel his boring into me anyway.

When we enter the Justice Building for the hour of goodbyes, I'm taken aback at how luxurious this place is. I've never been inside before, but was never interested. I knew it would be a bit more expensive than everything else in the district, but I never expected an elevator, or velvet carpets and matching, comfortable furniture. When the peacekeepers deposit me in my room I completely break down. I'm still crying when my Dad comes in with my Mum in a makeshift wheelchair.

We sit on the couch and hold each other. I assure them that I will try my hardest to come back. Mum is too sick to probably even notice anything's wrong. She has cancer, we expect her to go any day now. I'm extra thorough with saying goodbye to Mum, because even if I do come back, it's likely she won't be around. After about 15 minutes of hugging, tears, and doubtful reassurances, a peacekeeper escorts them out. I don't expect anyone else to visit me, so I sit down and cry, wondering if I'll ever see my Dad's narrowed green eyes again, or Mum's wispy blonde hair. I cry and cry until the door opens again to admit Atlas' older sister, Lethania.

"Ok, we don't have too much time, I only just got out from Atlas", she says, somewhat urgently. I can tell she only just said her final goodbye to her brother, because she still has tears on her cheeks and her eyes are red and puffy. "I want you to know that even though you're pitted against Atlas, we will still be routing for you. If Atlas can't come home, we want it to be you. The only other decent person in this District."

I smile weakly at this, so at least someone (outside my family) will be supporting me. "Thanks."

"Also, Nitya, please don't tell him I came here. He told me he didn't want me to. He was scared about what I might tell you." She says that last part with a slight smirk, her voice infused with subtle hints of amusement. I stare at her incredulously.

"What doesn't he want me to know?" As soon as I say this I know what her answer will be.

"I'm sorry, Nitya, I don't want to betray my brother's trust. Especially since I may never see him again." Her voice catches at the end of her sentence, and fresh tears start running. I give her a hug, and we sit there together, holding each other, until the peacekeeper comes in to escort Lethania out the door. I suspect my hour is up, it's not like anyone else will want to visit me. Lethania was surprising enough.

The door opens one last time, this also takes me by surprise. The visitor is a vaguely familiar man. He stands tall, but is very thin. He looks around his late twenties. He holds out his hand for me to shake then sits down. I sit down next to him, he doesn't object. We sit in silence for what seems like a lifetime, but must only be seconds. Until he finally opens his mouth.

"You probably don't remember me." He says, I open my mouth, but before I could utter the word "no", he continues. "I taught you to swim when you were young. You were my best student. Remember me now?" I think for a while, then I remember him.

"You're Mr Fourheir!"

"Yes, Nitya ,I'm Mr Fourheir. Please, I think you're old enough to call me by my first name. We are no longer student and teacher. My name is Jourje." I nod. How strange this is; I finished swimming lessons when I was 7. I am now 15, I expected him to forget me as I did him, and yet, he has come to say goodbye. I haven't seen him in years, I'm honestly surprised he's still alive.

He puts his hand in his pocket, and extracts a metal disk attached to a ring of cloth, big enough for you to put around your neck and still hang loosely over your chest. It looks old, worn, and yet I can still see the image engraved upon it. I don't understand what it's supposed to be. It looks like a wave, but why is he showing me this? "What is it?"

"This, is a medal. It has been in my family for generations. Around 500 years ago, in the mid-21st century, our ancestors created a big competition, called The Races. They included swimming races, running races, every kind of race you could imagine. The Races were held every 10 years, I think. About 2 or 3 centuries after they were started, one of my ancestors won the Ocean Swimming Race. This medal, was his reward. It became an heirloom, and now I'm passing it on to you. I hope when you look at it, you will think of home, of who you are and what you an do. I want you to wear it in the arena, as your District Token." He says. I'm extremely taken aback. He's giving me this, as my District token? Something that has been in his family for goodness knows how many generations? "Please." He adds, his eyes looking directly into mine, unblinking, begging. I reach out my hand and grab it slowly.

"I will."

He barely starts to smile when the peacekeeper is dragging him out of the room. My hour is up. I am escorted from the Justice Building to the train station, which is very nearby. I try to conceal my puffy face from the many cameras, and regret crying so much in the last hour. Atlas is walking nearby with our mentor, Savera Odinshoot. She's short with blonde hair and blue eyes. She won her Games by being able to run from the mutts that killed the last 3 competitors. The others tried to run, but none were as agile or fast as her. She's now in her early 20s. I join them and find that they're joking around. Typical Atlas. If I were him, I would be getting some help. We board the train and I feel so relieved that the cameras have finally gone. How will I stand life in the arena, knowing that I don't have a single private moment?

The speed of the train (and I'm not exaggerating when I say this) floors me at first. I've never travelled at such a speed! The fastest I've travelled is on the fishing boat, which averages about 10km/h. I don't like it, I feel like I'm flying to the capitol and could crash any second. I start to get used to it when the escort - whose name is Nalajerie - tells me that afternoon tea is being served.

Oh, the food! I have never seen so much food! I would eat it all if I could, but the speed of the train combined with a full stomach equals sea sickness.. Or rather, train sickness. I bite into some fish soaked in lemon sauce and sea salt. It's so delicious, and reminds me of home. Although it's much tastier. There's also this strange drink.. It's the colour of pee and smells kinda.. Tropical? I don't know the word for it.

"They call it Apple Juice, it's a fruit drink," says Atlas who is already sitting down. "It's kinda bitter, but nice, although if you're feeling sea-sick, I wouldn't recommend it." I feel fine so I try some. He's right, it's nice, but has a bitter aftertaste. I make sure I take the seat beside him and grab some meat that looks like some kind of bird. It tastes nice, and there's some beautiful herbs and spices cooked into the skin. I think there's also some kind of fruity flavour in there somewhere, too.

Savera Odinshoot enters the room and takes the seat opposite us. She's changed into some warmer clothes. I don't blame her, the air in this train is strangely cold. She observes us for a while, during which we continue eating. It seems hours until she finally speaks up.

"You two are the ones that dislike The Games, right? That's why no one volunteered for you?" She says almost matter-of-factly. We both nod, she snorts. "And I thought you two were alright! Ha!" She's bursting out laughing, we just sit there, embarrassed. After about 5 minutes she's still laughing. She seems unable to stop. At this point, I get really annoyed. I stand up suddenly, grab a knife and drive it into the table with such force that it makes a large sound that makes her gasp and clutch her chest for fright.

"Think we're funny, do you?!" I say, loudly, clearly, forcefully, angrily. I glare straight into her eyes which show no fear, but are still wet with the tears of laughter. "I bet you'll be glad to see us gone, then! In fact, why even bother to mentor us?! Since we're so ridiculously lame, there's no point! Well, guess what? We have about the same chances as the average tribute. We want to survive, and you're our mentor. It's your job to help us stay alive! If you're not here to help us, what the hell are you here for?!" Her eyes begin to show anger. My resolve wavers a bit because I know that, if she doesn't like me, she is not likely to help me.

"I am here to help the tributes of District 4 survive. You two don't deserve the honour of this, but you do deserve a slow and painful death.. According to most of our District. I happen to be one of the nicer ones, fortunately for you, so I will help you." She says slowly and poisonously. Every syllable quivers with controlled rage. She has a very high temper, no doubt about that..

"Ok so, how do we survive?" Atlas says. I've never seen him so serious. I'm so used to the happy, laughing Atlas. Where did this sombre young man come from? My stomach gives a jolt as I realise I may never see that laughing boy I fell in love with again. Savera gives us some advice, although she's vague. She gives short, quick answers that don't always completely answer the question. None of us dares ask her to be a bit more direct. After a couple of hours, lunch is served. Nalajerie joins us. She's not the usual escort for our district. But I guess the other lady, Figra, got a bit old. She'd been the escort for our district for 15 years. Probably got bored of the job, I suppose.

Lunch consists of multiple dishes. First we have what Nalajerie called the entreè. We can choose between roast duck soaked in a white sauce that perfectly complements the herbs sprinkled over the surface of the bird's back; a delicious looking soup that is transparent green, with chunks of pear floating around the surface; roasted potatoes with gravy; and vegetables of all shapes and sizes, soaked in a clear, dark liquid that tastes sharp. Next we fill our plates with beef, lamb, rabbit, chicken, any and every meat imaginable. Then we all get bread with butter, and pasta with sauce. Finally, we stuff our faces with exquisitely decorated cupcakes of all flavours; rainbow ice cream; a bright, wobbly substance that Nalajerie calls 'jelly'; and delicious chocolate of all types. Nutty, fruity, plain.. you name it, we have it.

After lunch I get one of the Capitol attendants to show me to my quarters. It's one cart containing a very large bed, a huge wardrobe, and a separate bathroom. I sit on the bed, which has a thick, soft quilt of a green, velvety fabric. The bed immediately moulds to the shape of my butt. Perfection. My bed at home is nowhere near this luxurious. For one, it's not even half the size of this one. For another, to have fabric so soft, is unheard of in any of the districts. Not even in One, where they make luxury items.. Or Eight, where they make textiles. Even to have fabrics with this intensity of colour is rare. You can have coloured, definitely. But to have colour so intense, so dark, costs a fortune. Even in Four, one of the richer districts, few can afford the luxury. Whatever makes up this mattress, you cannot buy in the districts. It is an expensive luxury reserved for the Capitol.

I lie down and begin to drift off, it seems only minutes, no, seconds later Atlas is softly knocking on my door, telling me that dinner is served. I smile as I listen to his voice. So deep, yet still has a bit of that 'boy-whose-voice-is-breaking' sound that most boys our age have. When it goes away, I'm left with nothing. I'm not hungry, since lunch was so big. I decide to get up and have a bath. The bath is much better than my bath at home. At home, we either bathe in the ocean , or we use our tubs. They are built into our homes, are wooden, and just 1 metre squared, and about half as deep. This large white plastic tub, which is roughly twice the size of the one back home, is extremely comfortable. Like the mattress, the plastic somehow moulds to my body while remaining solid. It's truly mind-bending, this Capitol technology.

After my bath I really have nothing else to do but to go out to dinner. Atlas is sitting beside Nalajerie, and on his other side is an empty seat, then there's another empty seat where Savera should be sitting. He is the first to notice me walk in, as Nalajerie is babbling on about how 'privileged' we are to be able to experience the Captiol before we die a painful, gruesome and very public death. Great.

I take my seat beside Atlas. He smiles at me as I sit down, I give a smile back. Nalajerie is perplexed, tributes are not usually friendly to each other after the Reaping. They must kill each other, so why bother? Well, apparently no other Tributes do. Well, then again, Tributes from our District celebrate after the Reaping anyway, they're probably too busy partying to be friendly.

"We'll be arriving in the Capitol in 7 hours" says Savera as she stalks in. She sits down in the vacant seat and stuffs her face with food. She doesn't say a word throughout the course of dinner. Not even when Nalajerie asks where she's been. Judging by what she said when she came in.. My guess is she's been talking to the driver or pilot or whatever the driver of this train is called.

We finish dessert and I say I'm going to bed. It's been a long and terrifying day and I'm exhausted. I collapse into bed in my clothes and find I can't sleep. I don't like lying there awake so I get up and walk out. I can hear voices.. Atlas and Nalajerie. I walk toward their voices and find they're sitting on a couch together watching the recap of the Reapings. I thought I missed them, they are usually played during the day. I sit down, luckily it has only just started and I'm watching the girl from District 1 get Reaped. She has blonde shoulder-length wavy hair and clear blue eyes. She also has a scar on her cheek. Not very long, but it's wide and red compared to her pale skin. I wonder why no one volunteers for her.. She looks quite pleased so she can't have been in my position. They Reap the boy, and another quickly lunges forward to volunteer.

I watch the District 2 Reaping next, the girl is very fit, with brown hair and eyes. No one volunteers for her, either. She looks so deadly, I wouldn't be surprised if it was because she would kill whoever does. The boy is Reaped, then it cuts to the District 3 Reapings. A short, freckly girl with dark hair is chosen, and then the boy. Next is our Reaping. I watch myself get chosen, walk shakily to the stage, and nearly burst into tears. I then watch tall Atlas get chosen and you can nearly see my heart drop. They then cut to District 5. A short redhead girl is chosen, and then a boy with a huge burn up his arm. The tributes of District 6 don't make much of an impression on me, just like most of the boys from the other Districts. District 7 has an extremely tall and fit blonde girl and a short, stocky boy. District 8 Reaps a brunette girl with a strawberry birthmark up one of her arms and onto her neck. The boy is chosen and they cut to District 9. The escort calls out the tributes' names and it cuts over to 10. None of the tributes from 9 or 10 make any impression on me and I forget them quickly. For 11 a rather shaky girl is chosen, then a short, black boy with Asian-style eyes is chosen. He doesn't look happy or sad or even nervous. He occasionally winks at a couple of girls, maybe he thinks he actually has a chance. The District 12 tributes are both short with blonde hair and blue eyes, then the National anthem plays, and the screen fades to black. By now I can only remember a quarter of the tributes.

Blonde girl from 1, Deadly girl from 2, burned boy from 5, tall girl from 7, girl with strawberry birthmark from 8, boy who winked from 11, and that's it. I look at Atlas, the fear in his eyes is crystal clear. A lot of the competition look a lot stronger and deadlier than us. Nalajerie gets up suddenly and exclaims she's going to bed in her loud Capitol accent. For what seems like an eternity we sit there. The atmosphere is so tense, right now I miss the happy joking Atlas more than ever.

"Well, I reckon we're stuffed. There's no way we'll get past any of them! I say we give up now and let them all kill each other while we ride safely home." I say. My attempt at an atmosphere-lightening remark. Epic fail. He smiles though. He looks me in the eyes with that great big smile of his.

"Yeah! Great idea! Let's get out of here!" He gets up and runs out the door into the next room. I know he's joking around. It's not surprise that when I walk out the door to see what he's doing he's waiting beside it to scare me. We laugh together for ages. We collapse onto the ground and just sit there laughing. One wouldn't usually laugh this much for something as simple as this.. But the fact that we can probably count the number of funny times we have left on our fingers makes us cherish the moment as much as possible.

We eventually calm down and I lay down on my back. He sits there for a while longer before getting up and saying he's gonna try and get some rest. I lay there for a while longer before deciding to do the same.

It seems five seconds after I close my eyes that Nalajerie is rapping on my door, commanding me to get up. We'll arrive at the Capitol in 2 hours. I notice it's still dark.. It's probably only 2am. I get up obediently and decide to take another bath.. There's just something calming about these Capitol baths. Maybe it's the warm water.

I finish my bath and get dressed into a blue dress I find in the dresser next to the bed. The blue is the precise shade of the ocean back home, I look at myself in the mirror and burst out crying. The blue dress reminds me too much of home.. That I will never see again. No, there's a chance I will. No of course there isn't. Did I not see the tributes from the other Districts? Deadly, confident, strong and trained. What chance do I stand? And how can I win knowing that to achieve it, Atlas must die? I cannot kill Atlas, nor will I be able to watch him die. It will be far better for me to die before him, then I don't have to suffer the heartbreak. What am I thinking? I'm not going to kill myself nor am I going to try to die. I am going to keep trying my best until the end. Isn't that what I promised my family? Mr Fourheir? I can't let them down. The thought reminds me of the medal Mr Fourheir gave me. I retrieve it from the clothes lying abandoned on the floor and put it on.

When I go out to breakfast I realise I'm still wearing the sea-blue dress when Atlas gapes at it. He must be remembering home, too. We eat breakfast in silence. We haven't seen Savera since dinner last night. I wonder where she's got to. I can just make out the mountain range that encloses the Capitol in the darkness. We'll be there extremely soon. I finish eating and go sit in the room where Atlas, Nalajerie and I watched the recaps of the Reapings. I curl up on one of the lounge chairs and just lie there. Terrified of the coming days. In less than a week the Games will begin. I might be dead in less than a week; if I'm one of the unlucky ones to die on day 1. No, I can't think like that. Must stay positive, must stay alive. Oh, great.. Now I'm thinking about Atlas dying again.

We enter a tunnel and I know we're gonna be there in mere minutes. I walk to the nearest window and watch the lights of the air vents go past until we get out the other side. We travel around a great big lake and then we're surrounded by Capitol reporters and crazed Hunger Games fans. I wave to them, maybe one of them is rich.. They could be my sponsors. The Capitol is amazing. Our seaside shacks and run-down fishing boats are like dead flies on the ground compared to this wonder. This place won't have much competition anywhere.

We pull into the station and Savera runs over to me before we step onto the platform. "They'll take you in for prepping in a few hours.. I won't see you until after then. Don't object no matter what they do to you. You won't like a lot of it.. But just take it. Got it?"

"Got it."

"And don't argue with your stylist.. Whoever he or she is, they know what they're doing. Understand?"

"Yes." I say. I look to my left and find Atlas standing next to me. He's looking at Savera with that very serious expression that does not belong to him.

We pull up at the station and the cameras encircle us. I feel extremely crowded out and try not to push some of the main offenders away. We walk into the training centre and the glass doors close behind us. I watch as the reporters with large cameras try to get the best spot in front of the door, pushing each other and moving from side to side to get the best angle. Blinding lights flash, reporters shout, cameras click. This is all I will ever know for the rest of my life. I have to accept the fact that for the rest of my life, whether I win or not, I will always have cameras pointed in my direction. I need to forget privacy completely.. My life will be very public from this point onwards, and there's nothing I will ever be able to do about it.


	2. The Chariots

My Prep Team circle the table on which I lie, examining my naked body. They have so far ripped off all my clothes, waxed every strand of hair on my body off except for my hair eyelashes and (most of) my eyebrows, cleaned me very thoroughly and washed my hair so that it falls in silky curtains over my shoulders. All my blemishes have been removed and scars covered up with a thick cream-like substance that matches my pale skin perfectly. They are now plucking every stray hair from my body. I feel so vulnerable without the hair on my legs and arms. Even the slight, transparent peach-fuzz I had on my face.

The Prep Team themselves are extremely strange. All three are girls. One is called Vassin, she is slightly plump and shorter than the others. She is very tanned and has brown tattoos in a kind of floral pattern up her arms, that give her the look that her arms are wooden and someone has carved a pattern into them. Her hair is dark purple and is put up into a high ponytail, adorned with all kinds of bobbles and colourful beads. The next is Tagra, she is rather tall and very fit. Her skin has a kind of purple tinge to it, and her eyes are dark brown. She is wearing deep red lipstick with extravagant fake eyelashes that sparkle. The final member of my Prep Team looks older than the other two, and seems to have had too much surgery on her face. Her lips are plumped to the extreme and the skin around her eyes is tightly stretched. Her name is Pansie.

"It seems you are done! Now you look almost perfect!" Pipes Tagra in her annoying Capitol accent.

"Yes, a brilliant improvement from when you arrived! You nearly look normal now!" Adds Vassin.

"I'll call Willow!" Tagra says as she bustles out of the room. Willow, it seems, is my stylist. It also seems she's not interested in seeing me until I'm 'perfect'. The other Preps strut out too and I'm left alone. I'm in a special section of the Training Centre designated for the Prep Teams to work with the Tributes. It's surprisingly pleasant in here.. Once the Preps stop plucking you bare. I put a robe on that's sitting on a chair nearby and sit in one of the plush armchairs in the corner.

Soon after, a young woman enters the room from where the Preps exited. She's average height, pale-skinned, thin, and has a very casual - and somewhat daggy - manner. She isn't as strange-looking as most of the Capitol citizens. She does wear makeup.. But it's not extravagant. Cheap mascara, liquid foundation, peach-pink lip gloss and black eyeliner with a hint of dark purple eyeshadow. She has a tattoo on her arm. It's black, curly writing, but I can't read what it says. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she's wearing a white slogan tee with baggy pants and sneakers. This look does not belong in the Capitol. I have never seen anyone look this way before.

She takes a seat in the chair opposite me. She slouches, with her legs apart. "Thank God you put your robe on! I hate walking in here with some naked teenager I don't know. It's so awkward!" Her accent isn't Capitol, and her voice is loud. "Sorry you had to go through prepping, but apparently it's protocol or some shit like that. But anyway, I'm starving! What's for lunch?" She presses a button under the table between us and it immediately opens up to reveal a delicious lunch. Creamy sauce in a bowl just begging to have chicken dipped in it, a delicious soup that has tiny versions of real vegetables swimming in it. Fish draped with layers of delicious lemon sauce. Turkey covered in exotic herbs and spices. My mouth is watering. And apparently Willow couldn't wait another second. She's already digging into that turkey.

I sit there looking at the meal. It's a higher quality than the food on the train. It's so unfair that the Capitol gets everything and all we get are leftover fish and salty bread. I tentatively grab a piece of chicken and dip it into the sauce. The sauce is a bit bitter, yet creamy at the same time. I didn't even think that possible. I finish a leg and find Willow staring intently at me while chewing on a turkey leg, half of the skin hanging out of her mouth.

"So.. What's it like in your District? I heard the Districts don't get much food. Gosh.. I would die!" Yes, no doubt you would. This lady sounds like she would die if she went an hour without devouring a chocolate bar.

"It's.. Nice. We don't get great food, but the ocean view is pretty.." I say, my voice catches at the end of the sentence and I see a flicker of sadness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry" she mumbles. I give her a tentative smile, she quickly regroups herself. "Right, so, what are we gonna do for your outfit for the chariots tonight?" She hasn't planned it? Oh God, I'm dead. "I have created 3 different designs. One, you wear a fishing net. That's it. It will be strategically knotted over your privates so you're not actually naked. Two, you're a fish. You're in a fish costume, but it will be a bit skin-tight so that you don't look like a shapeless lump. There will be miniscule fairy lights attached to it in a certain pattern so you appear to have shiny scales. Three, you're in a sheer, skin-tight dress with a wave-pattern imprinted over it, with blue sparkling stockings."

I immediately know which one I prefer. "Number two!" I say instantly. She seems a bit taken aback at my sudden answer, but quickly gets over it.

"Well, alright then! I'll fix it up for you."

Several hours later I'm about to hop onto my chariot with Atlas. He must have also chosen the fish, because he's in the exact same thing. Then I remember all the tributes must wear the same thing. They must have let me decide. Willow has done an amazing job with the costumes. I admit I didn't expect such good work from her. She doesn't seem the type that would put much effort into anything.

We are both in full-body skin-tight outfits, with bits that flare out from our knees down, up our spines, along our sides and our arms that represent fins and the tail. The fairy-lights seem to be built into every square centimetre of the fabric, and they change colour constantly to give the illusion of moonlight shining off our 'scales'. They're not on at the moment so the costume is grey. It's remarkable. "I spent ages watching fish to pull this off, it was the most boring thing I've ever had to do." Willow had said as she had first showed me what the fairy-lights looked like.

The scene is very unsocial. Everyone is standing on or by their chariots. The tributes are standing stiffly apart, except for the tributes from a couple of Districts who know each other, like Atlas and I. I can see the girl from 1 with the scar on her cheek glaring at the boy from her District who is patting their horses. The deadly girl from 2 is flexing her muscles and winking at the boys while standing on her chariot. The boy from 11 who winked is smiling at her. The girl with the strawberry birthmark from 8 looks like she's about to faint.. Or perhaps spew. Although her eyes have a set determination about them. The blonde Tributes from 12 are both already standing in their chariot, standing stiffly apart.

All too soon, it's time to get onto our chariots. Willow and Atlas' stylist, a man called Flye, come and turn our battery packs on. We stand together on the chariot waiting for the horses to start running out. First 1, 2, 3, and now us. The horses move so fast that, at first, I nearly fall out.. Atlas must have noticed because he grabbed my hand and pulled me upright. I'm glad he doesn't let go because I still feel like I'm gonna fall out any second.. And, ok I admit, I'm loving holding his hand.

The crowd goes insane when they see us. It's because they've never seen anything like this before, costumes that light up. Amazing. I thought they saw this kind of thing every day in the Capitol, but apparently not. I catch a glimpse of us on one of the big screens, and gasp. We look enchanting, magical, unnatural. The lights from the costumes cast a bluish glow over our faces and exposed fingers. The green nail polish reacts to the light in such a way that it appears to be glowing. The gel Willow applied to all my exposed skin is sparkling, and the purple lipstick just pulls it all together. Without the lights on, we just looked odd. But now we are beautiful, unearthly beings.

The crowd seems to ignore completely anyone that comes out after us, except for the polite smattering of applause when another Districts comes out of the training centre. They are throwing gifts to us. Small gifts. Like flowers and chocolates and little number 4's that they fashioned out of cardboard. Or maybe they receive one for each District when they take their seats. My heart sinks when I realise that they expect us to become part of that alliance between the Tributes of 1, 2 and 4.. And the occasional Tribute they deem strong enough.

I heard in the commentary of the Games a few years back that in some Districts they're called the Careers. In 4, we just call them the Hunters. I've never much liked the name, and ever since I found out what some Districts call them, I've referred to them as the Careers. Of course, during conversation with other people I just say 'the Hunters'. Because I didn't need another reason for other people to hurt me or hate me.

Atlas pulls me back to Earth when he talks. "You should smile you know, it'll really win them over." I can't help but smile when he talks to me. "Perfect." He says with that great big smile of his. I look away. I might be blushing, but no one can tell because of all the makeup Willow had the Preps put on me. I can't stop smiling so I just go with it. The crowd loves it. We own this Capitol audience. We probably have a tonne of sponsors already. Just imagine what we could do once we do the interviews, and if we get a good training score, there's a good chance one of the two of us will win! Sponsors can mean the difference between life and death in the arena.

We reach the city circle, and all stop to hear President Snow's address. I don't pay any attention. I look around at all the other Tributes' costumes. I didn't really pay attention before. The Tributes for 1 are in sparkling gold leotards with white feathery capes and boots. The District 5 Tributes are in lightning suits. District 12 are wearing skanky coal miners' outfits. The girl's breasts are barely covered, and the pants are really short. As for the boy.. The top half of his outfit is hanging down around his knees, and he's wearing long and tight pants. District 7 are creepy trees that you would expect to find outside a haunted house. Unless there's some paedophile out there eyeing off the District 12 Tributes, no one can compare to us.

The President finishes the address and we're wheeled into the training centre. I let go of Atlas and jump down. I can't believe that I actually held his hand. I used to dream about it every night back home. Could that really only have been yesterday night? It seems like a lifetime ago.. Like recalling a past life, or a long lost younger sister.

Nalajerie meets us and takes us to the elevator. We're in level 4, because we're from 4. All we need to do is press the little number 4 on the elevator wall and it takes us straight there. It's fun riding in the elevator, if only we were a bit higher up.

"That was fun!" Atlas says. I don't know if he means the chariots or the elevator. I play along anyway.

"I know right! Let's do it again!" I say. He smiles.

"Well come on, then! Let's go all the way up to 12 and pretend it was an accident." I smile playfully and run into the elevator. It's obvious now that he means the elevator ride. I press ground after he gets in and see Nalajerie's shocked face as the doors close. It's just as fun going down as it is going up. Once on the ground, giggling, I press 12.

Both of us are laughing our heads off on the ride up, and when the door opens, we can see them all having dinner. "Oops, sorry guys. Pressed the wrong button." Atlas says. They're all staring at us while we try not to laugh.

"No worries, accidents happen. You shouldn't be up here, so I think it would be best if you go." Says the mentor. He's looking at us like we're some strange entity that makes no sense. All of them are, they seem quite interested in us.

"Goodbye, and may the odds be ever in your favour!" I trill in a Capitol accent as Atlas presses the little number 4. When the doors close, we both roar with laughter. We both collapse onto the ground of the elevator after grabbing each other's shoulders for balance. Still holding each other, laughing, on the floor, the doors to our level open. Savera is standing over us, glaring.

"This is no time to mess around! You are going into the arena in 5 days and you two are pulling pranks together! What did you think you were doing?! You're not allowed to visit other levels! Get out of my sight, both of you!" She almost shouts. It's extremely forceful, and enough to scare us out of the elevator. Once out of Savera's range, we sit in the hallway together and chat, and speculate as to why Savera's always so grumpy.

It's funny, I never really considered us as close. We chatted occasionally and joked around sometimes, but we've never been this close. Maybe the fact that all we have is each other - possibly for the short remainder of our lives - brings us closer than ever.


	3. The First Day Of Training

I sit on the edge of my bed and watch all the buildings of the Capitol light up as the sun rises. I'm dreading 10 o'clock. Because that's when I will descend to the underground level and begin my training. In there, I have no Capitol audience or amazing outfits that melt the crowd. It's just me and my skill.

I'm terrified of meeting the other tributes. The deadly girl from 2 stands out in my mind when thinking about training. She will definitely be part of the Careers, and expect us to be, too. I become so scared at this thought that I run out of the room and to the first place I think of without really thinking. Before I know it, I'm slamming the door behind me and sliding down the door onto the ground. I just sit there for ages before his voice brings me back to Earth again.

"Nitya?" he says. I look up into his eyes. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, his smile fades when he sees my tears. He walks over and helps me up. "What's wrong?" He says. He sounds genuinely worried. I explain everything. My fear of being expected to join the Careers. How I'm worried we'll embarrass ourselves with our mediocre combat and survival skills. And the nagging thought that we'll immediately be bumped up to the top of the Careers' kill list when we reject them. He listens intently the whole time. At times I pray that he isn't getting bored with me, but he seems genuinely concerned. After I finish he pulls me into a hug. We stand there for a long time. "You know, you're not alone. Whatever happens I'll still be there for you. We'll pull through." He says. His voice catches at the end of the sentence. He must have remembered that no, both of us can't pull through. There can only be one Victor. And our chances of even making the top 10 are almost zero.

We stand there and keep hugging. At least if I'm gonna die I will be happy. I have held hands with, pulled pranks with and hugged Atlas Perthshire. Maybe I'll even be lucky enough to die in his arms. Actually, just in his presence will be good enough.

What a little optimist I am.

We don't break apart until Nalajerie comes in to call Atlas to breakfast. She stands there in the doorway looking from one to the other. I know how unusual this must seem to her. Two Tributes from the same District, just days away from entering the arena, hugging, being friendly and (seemingly) happy. Actually, from her point of view we might even seem to be romantic together. We're no romantic though.. Or are we, and I'm too busy worrying about the Games to realize? No, I think I would have realized if we were being romantic. Besides, he isn't the romantic type.

"Savera wants you to come out for breakfast", whispers Nalajerie before scurrying out. We walk out obediently, dreading what Savera would say.

"YOU - ARE - ABOUT - TO - ENTER - THE - ARENA - AND - YOU'RE - DOING - THIS?!" She yells, in a spitting rage. We just entered the dining room and Savera's face is as red as a tomato. I don't understand why she's so angry. She probably just dislikes us. She rages some more for a couple of minutes before Nalajerie steps in.

"I'm sorry, Savera, but they need to be downstairs in an hour. Can you let them have their breakfast so they can get dressed and.." Her voice trails off at the end of the sentence, like someone turned the volume down. I think Savera looked at her, because she stepped back into the shadows as she stopped talking. Savera closes her eyes for a second, as if to regain her sanity, then beckons us to sit down.

"So," she says in a carefully measured voice. There's no doubt she's trying to suppress her anger. "We need to discuss strategies for training. Is there anything you guys are good at?"

"I can run fast. Because I play sport in my free-time. I'm really fit." Atlas says with a smile. Not a gloating one, just a smile. I smile too, I don't know why. I can't help it. Whenever he talks I just.. smile.

"I'm kinda strong, and we can both swim very well.. That's about it I guess." I say.

"No, that's not it. You can fish. Both of us can." He playfully points out. I laugh.

"Ok, I can fish. Anything else?" I jokingly enquire.

"Hmm.. Let's see, you're smart. You're a fast learner, and you're a decent runner." He says, laughing. I continue laughing.

"Yeah, ok. But you're smart too, you know!" We both laugh.

"Oh I am, am I?" He says in mock curiosity. I start to get a stitch from laughing now, so I nod instead of talk.

"Ok, I've heard enough." Savera says, somewhat impatiently. "So, let me get this straight. You're both decent runners, although Atlas is faster. You can both fish and swim. You're both smart. Nitya's strong, and a fast learner, and Atlas is the fittest. Correct?" She says. We nod, still wiping away tears of laughter. "Ok, you both need to work on combat skills. Nitya, since you're a fast learner, try to get to as many stations as possible. Especially survival skills. That last one goes for both of you. Never underestimate survival skills. Nitya, as far as combat goes, I would recommend spears and axes. Possibly knives. Atlas, try to go for knife-throwing and swords. Both of you should go for hand-to-hand combat. Remember: DON'T IGNORE THE SURVIVAL SKILLS. They're vital. Got it?" We nod. "Also, since you started the whole 'team' thing last night with your hand-holding and that little prank you pulled on 12, I want you to continue it. Understand?" She says. We nod again, finish breakfast in silence, and go to our rooms to get ready.

Willow has laid out my training outfit for me. A simple blue shirt that absorbs sweat; loose black shorts made of the same thin, light fabric; and blue and white high-top sneakers made for athletic activity. I take a shower first, but I realize before I undress that this is no ordinary shower.

It has buttons everywhere. Each one with a little label under it. I press the buttons labelled 'lukewarm temp.', 'strawberry shampoo', 'raspberry conditioner', 'blueberry shower gel', 'medium pressure', 'nail-polish removal - fingers' and 'blemish prevention serum'. At once, lukewarm water starts spurting out of the shower head. I undress and step in, and immediately blueberry-scented shower gel is spurting out of the shower head too. It covers my body and is then washed away. My already clean skin looks a million times cleaner. Next the foamy pink shampoo is squirted onto my head. And little robotic hands stick out of the walls to massage it in. The conditioner is done. The nail-polish remover is next, then the blemish prevention serum is poured all over my body. It soaks into my skin as the water returns to normal, then turns off.

I step out and little heaters appear and blow-dry my skin clean. Then a little slot opens and a little icon indicates that I should stick my hand in it. Immediately, I feel as if an electric current is being sent through me, and before I know it, my hair is dry and free of all knots and tangles, and is sitting on my shoulders in a straight, silky curtain.

I get dressed into my training clothes and put my hair into a short ponytail. I look in the mirror. I look more like the girl I was just a couple of days ago. No makeup, no flashy fish costume, just me.

I walk out into the dining room, where Savera is still sitting in her seat. Atlas is sitting on the other side of the table. His training outfit is the same as mine, except where it's blue on mine, it's green on his.

"Well, ready to go?" Nalajerie trills. We nod. Butterflies erupt in my stomach and I struggle not to chew my nails or tongue. I walk to the lift with Atlas and Nalajerie, and notice I'm shaking. Before stepping into the lift I take a deep breath to calm myself.

The lift stops at the underground level. Atlas and I walk out, as Nalajerie wishes us luck in her Capitol accent. It's only a quarter to ten, but we're one of the last to turn up. I feel my face burning as I join the others .

I notice the Tributes from 1 and 2 are smiling at us. I try to avoid their glance and stand as far away from them as possible. Atlas follows. A woman is giving an introductory speech. Advising us not to ignore the survival skills, not to fight with each other and reminding us that after 3 days we face our private sessions with the gamemakers. After she finishes talking, she lets us go off on our own.

I gravitate to Atlas and urgently whisper. "What are we going to do?"

"Tie some knots!" He whispers playfully back. It' so random that I have to laugh.

"No, seriously!" I say.

"I'm serious let's go tie some knots!" He says, laughing. I roll my eyes. "If we go over there, we can chat freely without looking suspicious. No one goes over there." He adds in an undertone.

"How do you know?"

"The trainer doesn't look lonely! The negligence his station is receiving isn't having an effect on him. It means he's used to it."

"Wow, that's the smartest thing I have ever heard you say!" I whisper, as we make our way to the knot-tying station. The trainer greets us enthusiastically, Atlas is right.. No one goes to him. He shows us how to set a few simple yet effective snares. This is actually pretty useful. We could use it to capture food. I'm quite squeamish when it comes to the interior of living things, so Atlas can do the preparing.. If he wants to form an alliance with me.

We master a few simple snares and are just moving on to the slightly more complicated stuff when I detect footsteps behind me. I turn around, and the four tributes from 1 and 2 are there. They take a seat on both sides of us, and grab a rope each. I notice the scarred girl from 1 avoids her District partner. I don't think she's overly fond of him. His life isn't going to be very long in the arena. Perhaps he knows it, he seems kinda scared of her.

"So, you guys joining us or what?" The deadly girl from 2 whispers. I can tell that we'll be her first targets if we decline.

"Uh, sure. We're just here so that we can get food if something were to happen to the supplies." I say. Phew. Atlas looks at me slightly quizzically, but quickly catches on.

"Yeah, or if there aren't any. Remember that year the only stuff at the cornucopia was maces?" He says casually. The Careers nod.

"You two work on this, we'll go intimidate the competition." The boy from 2 says. He stands up and walks off to hand-to-hand combat. The deadly girl and the boy from 1 follow, however the scarred girl stays.

"I refuse to go anywhere near him." She says as she settles down and starts imitating what the trainer does.

"Why?" I ask. "Don't you like him?"

"I can't stand him. He pisses me off so much." She says with a scowl. Her voice is soft, not what I expected. She moves her hands around a lot when she talks, too. Atlas nods.

"Come on, we've mastered the basics. We should move on to something else." He says. We get up, and the girl from 1 goes off towards axes. I grab Atlas' arm to stop him.

"I'll go there with her. Savera recommended axes for me, anyway. You go off to more survival skills. We'll swap after an hour, yeah?" I whisper quickly. He nods and walks off to edible plants while I follow the girl. We pick up an axe each, and the girl immediately starts tearing up the training dummies. I just sort of stand there, the trainer notices that I have no clue what to do, so she shows me a good throwing method. I try it out, and manage to hit the dummie's arm. She then shows me how to control the accuracy. I quickly get the hang of it. I may not be perfect, but at least I have some skill with it. Once I get the hang of throwing, the trainer lets me train with the dummies up close. I'm really good at this.

"You're pretty good! What's your name, anyways?" The girl says after decapitating her dummy.

"Nitya, you?" I say as I strike my dummy so hard it flies off it's tether and hits the boy from 11 at the camo station. The girl laughs.

"Ha! Nice one! Anyway, I'm Grier." She says. I nod.

"Nice name." I say with a smile. "Not like the weird names you District 1 people usually have."

"Ha! Honestly, I'd prefer one of them." She says. "Like Sparkle, love that name." I try not to snort. The names District 1 people are used to are ridiculous. It's always been strange in the way of names. I mean, in 4 you don't call your kid Cod, nor do you call kid Quilt if you're in 8.

After I get the hang of axes, I walk over to Atlas, who is doing a test on edible fungi. I tap him on the shoulder and tell him it's his turn to learn some combat. He quickly finishes the test (which the trainer awards 74%) and walks over to sword fighting. Grier stays with me and pulls an info sheet towards her. I'm starting to think she's alright, when I remember that she's a Career, and I can't trust her.

The trainer gives me a tonne of information. After he tells me everything, with diagrams and lengthy explanations, he gives me a test, which I ace. Grier does pretty well on it, too. I ask the trainer how long we've been here, and he says nearly an hour, I walk over to Atlas. He's killing it with the sword. I notice the other Careers have joined him. He sees me and returns the sword.

"Where should I head now?" He asks.

"Go to fire-building. It will be very useful if it's cold. Or if we need a diversion." I say. He smiles and heads over. The deadly girl follows him with a mischievous smile I don't like at all. It makes my blood boil to see her skipping along beside him, laughing, putting her muscly arm around his waist (because she's too short for his shoulders). Grier bursts out laughing. My anger and jealousy must be registering on my face. "What?" I ask, somewhat defensively.

"You like him, don't you?" She says hysterically and louder than I would have liked.

"Maybe." I say, I can't stop myself from smiling when I say this. I don't understand why. I also don't understand why I'm telling her this information. They could kill him in the arena just to get to me. Why have I subconsciously decided to trust this girl? All I know about her is her name and her District. Even the District she's from just screams not to trust her.

She laughs while I grab a spear. It's not much different from axe throwing, except you need more strength for this because it's lighter and much smaller therefore won't travel far unless there's a lot of power behind it. It's much easier to throw slightly heavier objects.

I quickly get the hang of the spear, however Grier isn't as strong as me. "I've always had trouble with spears" she says. We both continue until lunch. I seek out Atlas and find a table. The Careers join us. We eat a great feast, which I know by now is the norm here, and chat. Atlas and I try to keep to ourselves so we can discuss strategy, but the Careers keep bringing us back into the conversation. Everyone stares at us like we're crazy - because they're all sitting separately and silently - while we chat loudly and laugh.

I find out the deadly girl's name is Merope, and how Grier got her scar (sword training mishap), and that the boy from 2's parents died in some giant mountain in his District that is, apparently, the military stronghold for the Capitol, when he was only 5 years old.

The Careers may be hated by all in the Districts, but they really are just normal people, who have an advantage in the Games. They are more than just killing machines, and that makes them a million times harder to kill.


	4. Second Day Of Training

"You plan on double-crossing the Hunters?!"

It's dinner time, and all of us are seated around the dining table. We've been answering Savera's questions about how the day went. We told her about how we've been taking turns doing survival skills and combat training, how the Careers approached us, how we agreed to go with them so that we could betray them in the arena (it's low, I know, but how is one of the two of us gonna win if they're alive?), and how much we've found out about them, and that it'll make it a million times harder to kill them.

She seems less than happy about our plan.

"You're telling me, that you agreed to go with them - on a whim - and now plan to kill them in their sleep? After Nitya's gotten far too close to one of them, and you both know details about them that will make them impossible to kill.. Because you feel sorry for them?! You two are pathetic excuses for tributes from District 4. Our whole District already hates you. If one of you manages to win, our people will probably kill you the minute you get home!" She says. I think she's overreacting.. A lot. No one will kill us if we get home. If one of us wins the whole District will love the Victor, for bringing gifts and glory to the District. They wouldn't kill us for double-crossing the other Careers. Savera's just having a rage session and saying unreasonable things.

"So, what did you do after lunch?" Asks Flye.

After lunch we continued taking turns, but we also got to know some of the competition - other than the Careers. I threw knives with the girl with the strawberry birthmark from 8 - her name is Librae, and she's not too bad (personality-wise.. She's incompetent with combat). I built hammocks with the tributes from 12, the girl is called Zenobia, and the boy is called Baron. Baron is.. Strange, he pulls faces and speaks in funny voices. Zenobia is alright; and they're both really funny.

"After lunch.. We got to know some of the competition." I say in reply. Flye nods.

"Like who?" Asks Nalajerie.

"The tributes from 12, and the girl from 8." I say. "And I think Atlas spoke to a couple, too."

"Yeah, that little girl from 3.. She's only 12 years old." He says, for some reason, his voice catches at the end of his sentence. Probably because he, too, thinks this is all wrong. A 12 year old should not be put in the arena.

"Why would you get to know the others? Wouldn't it make them 'harder to kill'?" Asks Savera accusingly. I glare at her, and she points her middle finger at me. This pushes me over the edge. I stand up suddenly and take a step toward her, shaking with anger.

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HELP US! OUR LIVES DEPEND ON YOU GETTING US SPONSORS! AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING? SCOLDING US FOR EVERYTHING WE DO! IF WE'RE FRIENDLY TO EACH OTHER, WE'RE IDIOTS. IF WE MAKE A PLAN TO DOUBLE-CROSS THE CAREERS, THE WHOLE DISTRICT WILL HAT E US. IF WE HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH ANOTHER TRIBUTE, IT'S WRONG. WHAT IS YOU'RE PROBLEM?! IF YOU DON'T LIKE US, FINE. JUST STOP SCOLDING US FOR EVERYTHING AND START TAKING OUR SITUATION SERIOUSLY, ALREADY!"

Everyone falls silent. They are all looking from me, to Savera - who looks extremely taken aback, and furious at the same time. When no one says anything for another 5 seconds, I stalk out of the room, tossing my glass of punch over my back. I hear it shatter on the ground just as I slam the door of my quarters. I take another shower and crawl into bed in my underwear. I hear the click of the light switch in the dining room. Everyone must be going to bed.

A few minutes later, my door opens. It's probably an Avox come to do the cleaning. I pretend to be asleep, until I feel someone take a set on the end of my bed. I roll over, holding the blanket over me, and look up. I can just make out his smiling face in the darkness. I smile too. "Atlas, what are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to chat. Savera's not giving us much help, so I thought we could discuss strategy in private." He says. I nod and sit up, still holding the blanket over me.

"So, what are we gonna do?" I say. "Savera's not much use."

"What do we know from watching past Hunger Games?" He asks. I shrug.

"24 Tributes, 1 Victor. What else is there to know?"

"I meant how to survive."

"The training stations can teach us that. We've already learnt heaps. You can use swords, I can use axes and spears. And between us we know some basic snares, edible plants and insects, and how to build a fire."

"Yeah, we've covered a lot of ground in one day. What if one of us is killed? Say, if I were killed, how would you know how what I know? In this situation, each of us has vital information, and if one of us dies.. The other will too." He finishes sadly.

"I don't want you to die." I say, tears in my eyes. Oh, God. I'm embarrassing myself so much.

"I don't want you to die either. So what are we gonna do?"

"We can share the info in the arena?" I say. He shakes his head.

"No good, what if there's no time? What if one of us is killed in the bloodbath?"

"How about, tomorrow we go to the survival stations that the other went to today?" I suggest. He smiles.

"Yeah, awesome! Now that we have that settled, we should make a list." He says. "Go get some paper and a pen from the stationery drawer in the living room." I laugh.

"I'm sorry, but I'm in my underwear. You get it!" I say playfully. He laughs.

"Oh come on, no one will see you!"

"Except you!" I giggle.

"Alright then." He says in mock exasperation. He gets up and walks out. I quickly jump up and brush my teeth. I've been worrying about my breath ever since I saw it was him - because I neglected to brush them earlier. I guess I was so angry that I forgot.

I hear his footsteps in the hallway and I drop the toothbrush and fly back under the sheets. I'm settled in bed again with the sheet covering me just in time for him to walk in with the stationery. He lays them on the bedside table then sits down again. "What stations did you visit? Without me?" He asks. I tell him, and he writes down all the survival skills ones. He then writes, on a separate piece of paper, all of the survival skills stations he went to without me.

When he finishes that, he writes my name on the list of stations he visited, and his on my list of stations. He then writes the weapons training that Savera recommended for each of us. He then writes on each sheet some other stations he thinks we should try to get to if we have time. He hands my list to me. It reads:

Nitya's Station List

Survival Skills:

- Fire building

- Edible Plants

- Shelters

- Camouflage

Combat:

- Spears

- Axes

- Knives

- Hand-To-Hand Combat

Don't spend too much time at a combat station you've already been to.

Things to get to if there's time:

- Archery

- Wrestling

- Edible Insects

- Tridents

"Thanks" I say. "You're a genius, really."

"Yes, well, no smarter than you." He says earnestly. He looks me in the eyes, I blush and look away. He laughs. "So, what else should we discuss?"

"I think that's it, for now. Be friendly to the Careers until we get to the arena, follow the lists.."

"Don't argue with Savera." Atlas cuts in. I gape at him. "If she doesn't like us, she won't send through gifts, even if we have sponsors." I nod my head. Oh my God, I completely forgot about that. How stupid I've been. I need to repair things between Savera and I, before it's too late.

My life can and will depend on it.

The next day in training was quite uneventful. Grier followed me everywhere again, and Atlas and I managed to cover everything we needed to cover from our lists. I even got around to Wrestling (which was challenging - but I think I killed it), and Tridents. It was extremely easy, thanks to years on the fishing boats. I also spent some more time with axes and spears. I'm getting pretty good with them.

Towards the end of training I got quite nervous. Tomorrow I'll have much less training time before the Private Sessions. I mean, what if I needed to visit more stations? What if I forget everything, and was better off focussing on one or two key skills?

Calm down, I've visited all survival stations Atlas has, and I've gone to all combat stations Savera recommended plus a couple that Atlas thought would come in handy. I have no reason to stress..

Well, until I remember I have the Private Sessions tomorrow. I check the time and find that there's just under an hour left. I go to axes again and continue practising. Apart from tridents, I'm best with axes. If there's no trident in the arena or in the private sessions, then I'll fall back onto axes. My stomach twists as the realization of this sinks in. That I'm thinking of using an axe as a weapon against other teenagers in a nationally televised fight to the death. I look over at Atlas, who's innocently doing a test on edible plants. I can't help imagining him skewering a faceless teen with a sword..

This really is sick.

That night, I go into my room and shut myself in. I take a shower, and curl up on the bed. Mr Fourheir's medal lies on the end table, my stomach gives another jolt as I imagine myself bludgeoning someone with an axe, their blood splattering onto the medal. A pure, innocent family heirloom, tarnished with innocent blood. I throw the medal at the door without realizing, and I'm pulled back to Earth by the door opening. I stand up just as Atlas steps in, closing the door behind him.

"I heard you shouting", he says as he picks up the medal. "Are you okay?"

I sigh, and sit on the bed, my head in my hands. He slowly sits beside me, unsure of what to do. The tears start running, and the sobs begin. He puts his arm around me, and I lean on him slightly, still sobbing.

My head is pounding with dark thoughts about the coming weeks. I don't realize Atlas is leading me to the dining room until I'm seated squarely beside Willow. I hear Atlas explaining what happened, but he doesn't know what's going on in my head, none of them do.

"Aww, sweetie! It's okay! I've heard you're quite good with a trident! You'll be fine!" She says in her loud voice, clapping me on the back.

"You're great with the axe, too." Atlas adds. "You're seriously the fastest learner I've ever come across, which means intelligence."

"And Intelligence is the most powerful weapon you could possibly have." Flye finishes. I don't know why he's trying to comfort me. He is, after all, Atlas' stylist.

I manage a weak smile and look at Atlas, hoping my expression shows my gratefulness. I slowly scoop up a small roasted potato with a my fork and take a shaky bite. Savera begins talking to Atlas about what he's gonna show the gamemakers tomorrow. I'm glad she's talking to Atlas, because I don't feel much like discussing it right now.

What could I possibly have done to deserve this? I'm grateful, however, for the support Atlas, Willow and even Flye have been showing. Savera.. Well, let's just hope she likes me enough to send through gifts.. Given that I actually have sponsors. I smile slightly as I remember the Tribute Parade. Of course we have sponsors after what Willow and Flye did for us. Willow's hooking into another turkey leg. She doesn't realize how grateful I am.


	5. Training Scores & Interview Preparation

"Atlas Perthshire." Says the robotic voice. I look over at Atlas, whose blood had drained from his face, leaving his handsome features ghostly white.

"Good luck." I say. He nods quickly, and walks awkwardly out of the room, everyone still in the room are watching him, just as nervous as I, not yet as nervous as him. It's the private sessions, and it's my turn next.

After about 15 minutes, the robotic voice calls my name. I gasp and stand up. Stage fright overcomes me as I walk out of the room, with everyone's eyes on me, into the training area, where the gamemakers' eyes are also on me. I stand in the middle of the room for a few seconds before I remember why I'm there, and I race over to the tridents. The target dummies are about 10 meters away. Easy.

I take aim, and throw. The trident hits the dummy squarely in the chest. I run to the trident to retrieve it, and decide on the spot to show off my almost non-existent close-combat skills.

I roundhouse kick the nearest dummy before following through with the trident. Moving on to the next dummy, I throw the trident the short distance, then follow through with a kick to the groin. The gamemakers smile at this, if I were to perform that on a boy, it would give the audience much entertainment watching the boy writhing around, bleeding and howling while holding his crotch. I finish off with throwing the trident at the next dummy's head. It goes so far in that the three spikes stick out the back of it's 'skull'. A few gamemakers clap.

Smiling, I grab an axe, and move onto the next dummy. I step back about 5 meters and throw. I run as soon as it's released and it lodges itself in the dummy's shoulder just as I arrive. I throw myself on the dummy, dislodging the axe as I do, and pin it down with my knees. I punch it's hard plastic face in, and throw the axe at the next dummy. It lodges itself in my plastic victim's chest, knocking it over. I retrieve it, and decapitate the next dummy while performing another roundhouse kick. I turn around and admire my work.

6 dummies, 'dead'. The gamemakers are nodding, obviously impressed. I look at the clock on the wall behind them, and see that I have been there 10 minutes. The gamemakers are still watching me, so I move over to the camouflage station and paint myself up as mud. It's clumsy work, but the gamemakers seem satisfied. It would work well in certain landscapes.

"Thank you, Miss Viponte, you may go." One of them says. I recognise him as Hank Crane, the head gamemaker. He's quite young, it's only his second year as head. I walk out, satisfied that I received a fantastic mark.

I find myself in the dining room on our level several minutes later. Atlas walks out of his room, spots me, and makes straight for me. He laughs in relief, probably because he sees my smile.

"So, I'm guessing your went well!" He says lightly. I let out a laugh, and nod. He looks at me with that great big smile of his, and we take a seat at the table.

"How about you?" I laugh. He smiles, and explains.

"Well, I walked in, grabbed a sword, and started.. Well, you know." He says. My smile fades as I imagine it, swapping the dummies for the other tributes. I watch him behead the black boy who likes to wink. I watch him stab Grier. I watch him kill at least 5 other tributes before he pulls me back to earth. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine.. I'm.. Just.. Thinking about the Games, and.."

"You're imagining killing the others." He finishes sombrely. I look up into his big brown eyes.

"I'm imagining you killing them." I choke out. His eyes widen, and he pulls me into a hug, which is interrupted by the arrival of dinner, and the others.

Willow, Flye, and Savera file into the room and take seats. Savera orders an Avox to bring some wine. I look at her quizically, she has a reputation for not drinking alcohol. Not that we have much in District 4, but at those Capitol parties she attends, she's renowned for always refusing the wine. In answer to my look, she says "I just thought we should have some, to celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Atlas says.

"Yes," she says smiling. "I heard you both did quite a good job in the private sessions today."

I don't see why she's celebrating now, because the scores haven't even been released yet. Maybe she knows what we're gonna get? More confusing is Savera's sudden change of heart. What happened to the bitch we've known for the last few days? Well, as long as she's nice and happy. I mean, who knows? I may end up owing my life to whoever (or whatever) has triggered this change.

The Avox arrives with the wine for the adults (and some non-alcoholic wine for Atlas and I) just in time for the results to be televised. We all take seats in the lounge room, and Savera turns on the television. An advertisement for toothpaste finishes, and then Hail Flickerman's face pops up on the television.

"Oh! Did you hear? His wife's pregnant with a little boy! They're going to call him Ceasar, I think!" Pipes Nalajerie. I couldn't care less about Hail's pregnant wife right now, all I want are my scores.

The boy from One's score is shown, then Grier (who gets a 9). The deadly girl from Two receives a ten, then her partner and the District 3 tributes' scores are shown. Atlas' face appears on the screen now, accompanied by a number 9.

We all cheer and clap him on the back. I give him a hug, and look up just in time for my face to appear on the screen, accompanied by the number 11. I gasp and jump up to give Willow a hug, who was racing over to me already. Savera is sitting in her seat, smiling while sipping some wine. I mouth to her "did you know?" In response, she raises her glass with a smirk.

The next day we're supposed to prepare for tomorrow night's interviews. Savera adopts a tactic that apparently is commonly used. We split up and spend four hours each with Savera and Nalajerie. I'm with Nalajerie first, to discuss what I'm going to say.

"Okay, so how do you wish to present yourself?" She says when we sit down in the lounge.

Bewildered, I answer, "Oh, um, I just want to.. Be myself." She clicks her tongue and thinks for a moment.

"Well, you do have a nice personality. You're sweet, but you're a bit.. Awkward." She says, frowning in concentration.

"How am I awkward?" I ask.

She laughs, and says, "Nitya, please, you trip over your words, you laugh at your own jokes -" I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts across me. "I'm sure you don't mean to, people do it to ease tension."

We talk for a while longer before practising. This is easier than I thought it would be, however no doubt it will be much harder tomorrow night. I have serious stage-fright.

Nalajerie assumes the role of Hail Flickerman, and we begin.

"Tell me about your training score." She says.

"Well, I just played to my strengths."

"What are your strengths?" She asks, somewhat sharply.

"Tridents and axes." I answer abruptly.

"Okay, Nitya, try to relax a little. You aren't really coming across as likeable, okay?" She suggests. I nod.

We keep at it for ages, until finally the 4 hours are up. I walk into my room with Savera, not sure what to expect. She's sitting patiently on the bed when I walk in slowly.

"Sit down." She says. I obey, and notice immediately that she has a pair of shoes and a long dress laid on the bed. "In the next few hours, we will focus on your presentation. This includes the way you walk, sit, hold yourself, and everything else to do with posture and presentation." She explains quickly. I nod. "See the dress and shoes? Go into the bathroom and put them on." She says, nodding to the outfit laid out on the bed. I pick them up obediently and put them on in the bathroom. I emerge about 5 minutes later. The shoes have heels, and the dress is heavy. It's extremely hard to walk. Savera tuts as she watches me struggle and wobble back to the bed. "You need some practise."

"Yes, I do." I manage. Savera stands up and orders me to stand still. I do, and she circles and examines me, reminding me horribly of a shark circling it's prey, straightening my back, changing the position of my arms, pushing my chin up. When she's done, I'm left in an uncomfortable and unnatural position. She stands back, admiring her work.

"Walk across the room, hold the position." She says. I do so, and almost immediately she reminds me that my arms can sway slightly, just as they normally would. I continue walking, or should I say, wobbling, across the room. She tells me to do it again, giving me tips and orders, until she's satisfied.

She pulls up a chair and orders me to sit. I do so, keeping my back as straight as possible. It's extremely uncomfortable, and my back's aching after an hour and a half of keeping it ruler-straight. She gives me more orders, and I find myself in a slightly more comfortable position, but it still feels unnatural and stiff.

"So, how are you presenting yourself?" She asks.

"As myself. Just.. Natural." I answer. She immediately gets to work, giving me more orders and tips on how to sit. I'm left in a much more comfortable and natural position, but not completely informal.

We continue with posture, walking practice, walking then taking a seat, and anything else possibly imaginable for this field until the four hours are up. To take off the heavy dress and uncomfortable shoes is an immense relief. After Savera leaves the room, I collapse onto the bed, exhausted. If that's what I'm wearing tomorrow, I will kill Willow.


End file.
